


spring

by toadtoads



Category: Alex Stern - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:02:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24410263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toadtoads/pseuds/toadtoads
Summary: Set sometime after the ending of Ninth House. Dawes and Alex go to the grocery store.
Relationships: Pamela Dawes & Alex Stern, Pamela Dawes/Alex Stern
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16
Collections: YA_Lit_Fan_Fic_Exchange





	spring

**Author's Note:**

> I liked most of the characters in Ninth House, but I loved Dawes. I enjoyed thinking about what it's like inside her head, and what changed Dawes' mind about Alex.

Pamela glanced at the pair of headlights through the rearview mirror, the blinding beams warped and diffracted through the cloudy rear windshield, turning something mundane into something frightening, something unknown. Why was the car tailing so closely? This didn’t feel normal, though she knew rationally that nothing was wrong. But nothing felt particularly normal to Pamela, not anymore. New Haven had never not been strange to her, but she would never feel at ease here again. She clutched the steering wheel, nails sinking into the leather, leaving dents. She ground her teeth together, jaw twinging, her breath trembling. The headlights pulled away, the car behind turning left onto a quiet residential street. Pamela, almost sweating with relief, pulled Darlington’s car carefully into its spot.

Pamela’s hands shook as she reached into the glovebox of Darlington’s car, to look for the keys for Il Bastone. Alex was looking at her, she was sure of it. Pamela wasn’t up to the task of eye contact. It sometimes felt like an impossible ask, especially with Alex. She inexplicably wanted to cry. It was silent in the car, the motes of dust warmed golden by the late afternoon light. She knew that they were both thinking about the funeral. Alex reached into the backseat for her bag, and handed Pamela her bag as well.

“Dawes.” Alex reached to unbuckle her seatbelt. “Will you help me with my homework? I have a test tomorrow.”

Pamela, incredibly, felt a little bit better. It used to aggravate her that Alex only looked one step in front of herself, determined to wing it every time. Pamela’s mind was a mess of flowcharts. She didn’t like leaving the house without planning out every possibility that every decision she was anticipating could unearth. She woke up at exactly the same time every day, and went to sleep at exactly the same time every night. When she went out to the university library, she liked to have the list of call numbers of the books that she was going to check out copied into her notebook in neat, square, evenly-spaced handwriting, organized by section. Alex probably had a nonzero amount of library fines, and it didn’t seem like she slept at all, most days. She used to resent Alex, a feeling that she knew was completely irrational. Was it possible to be this unafraid?

But if Pamela had learned anything this past year, it was that all of the trappings of order in her life were fragile, filmy illusions. These days, she found herself getting a pastry with her coffee some mornings. Sometimes, she cut across the grass.

She looked into Alex’s eyes, anticipatory. “Let’s go to the grocery store first. I’ll make us dinner. Anything you want.”

It was frigid inside the Stop & Shop. Pamela leaned into the produce case, trying to see if the cilantro was fresh today. It wasn’t ideal, but it would do, at least for absurdly simple spaghetti and meatballs that Alex said she wanted. Turning around, she caught the expression on Alex’s face. She looked like she was thinking hard about something, wistful, faraway. Feeling very unlike herself, Pamela wanted to know what Alex was thinking.

“Have you been here before?”

Alex reached out for the bunch of cilantro in her hands, plastic bagging it neatly with a twist tie. “No. I’ve never seen a grocery store with this much _stuff_ in it before. Like, what even is that?” She pointed at the little pile of kiwis on one of the displays.

“We can get some next time, if you want. I promise that they’re bad, though.”

Alex made a face and shook her head. “I’ll take your word for it.”

They stood in the checkout line, aimlessly chatting about Alex’s roommates, the chatter of the grocery store around them. Alex looked happy, she looked carefree, she didn’t look like she was ready to fight or flee. Pamela wanted to make her spaghetti, she wanted Alex to know what a kiwi tastes like. Alex cracks a joke, Pamela laughs. Pamela asks Alex if she wants a pack of gum, at the front of the checkout line.

Alex smiles at Pamela, their eyes meet. They reach at the same time for the same pack of Juicy Fruit.


End file.
